Transmigrated to Twenty Years Ago and Adopted Myself

    Jiang Wang suddenly found it difficult to reason with his seven-year-old self.

    "I won't sell you." He said slowly: "Actually... I'm a relative your mother asked to come over to take care of you. According to my seniority, I'm your cousin."

    "You are safe now."

    Peng Xingwang has not seen his mother for several years, and now his eyes are filled with tears, and he looks up at him.

    "Really?"

    Jiang Wang breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he finally found a decent rhetoric, and his tone was finally gentle.

    "Well, I actually look a lot like her, take a closer look."

    Peng Xingwang thought for a few seconds.

    "Can you give her a call?"

    Jiang Wang was expressionless: "I don't have a cell phone."

    "The guest house has a landline at the front desk."

    "Go to bed."

    Peng Xingwang looked disappointed, so he almost wrote 'you really lied to me' on his face, sniffed his nose and climbed back to the bed to wrap it up into a ball, and after a while he fell asleep with even breathing.

    Liu Jiang Wang sat by the bed alone, holding a half roll of gauze in a trance.

    He didn't expect things to come this far.

    A person has zero experience in love so far, and he is annoyed when he hears a child cry. He originally gave up on himself and planned to be a bachelor until he grows old. Before leaving, he found a place to dig a hole and lie down and save money on coffins.

    He looked at Peng Xingwang a little annoyed.

    Three steps hit the iron-like eight-pack abs.

    “His—”

    Jiang Wang looked down at him with a bag of soy milk fritters, and the shadow fell on the elder.

    Peng Xingwang turned around and ran, jumped back into the quilt and forced to sleep again, pretending that nothing happened.

    "Get up." The man said coldly: "Have a bath and go to school."

    Children thought they heard it wrong: "...school?"

    Jiang Wang had already bought a cheap T-shirt and put it on, and turned his back to the shirt and jacket he put away from the balcony: "What time does school usually end? I'll pick you up later."

    The child was quiet for a while, and his voice became much quieter.

    "No one ever picked me up from school."

    Peng Xingwang is seven years old this year. According to the habit of early admission in City A, he should be in the second grade.

    But he has never been to kindergarten, his father has been soaked in alcohol and vomit all day long since he was born, and his mother fled the country in a hurry after two years of birth, and it is entirely up to the neighbors to live today. Hundreds of meals.

      compulsory education.

    How else can children choose, just make do with it.

    Jiang Wang was silent for a few seconds, then neatly folded his old coat and held it in his arms with one hand, and led Peng Xingwang out.

    Hongshan Elementary School opens at seven in the morning. The school uniform is brown and yellow with black double stripes. From a distance, it looks like a group of puppies and bees lining up to enter the door.

    The big tall man and the little boy stood for a long time beside the bus sign diagonally opposite the school entrance.

    Jiang Wang suddenly remembered that Peng Xingwang had no school uniform.

    To be precise, I didn't get a clean suit until I was about to graduate, and I was as tattered as a little beggar before.

    Peng Xingwang didn't understand what he was thinking, he tilted his head and said, "I passed?"

    Jiang Wang frowned, turned around and said, "Let's go."

    He has to get some money to buy him a school uniform first.

    One big and one small walked aimlessly along the street, and turned into a sports lottery shop after a while.

    This place has always been a reserved place for retirees to play cards and chat, and there are few early morning businesses, but there are many people sitting there.

    The old man guarding the counter saw a social youth who was holding a child, his expression was not friendly: "Is something wrong?"

    Jiang Wang stared at the TV and said after a while, "World Cup?"

    "You have to buy a lottery ticket to watch the game," the old man said bluntly: "There is no seat, just stand."

    Peng Xingwang looked out of the street timidly, not knowing if he should run now.

    Jiang Wang does not like to watch football.

    He has so little interest that he has been autistic all these years.

    In the first few years of work, there was a projection screen in the living room of the rental house. The shared roommate would watch the game when he had nothing to do on the weekends, and he also turned up the games of the previous years and slapped it repeatedly. .

    Occasionally, Jiang Wang would pick up the wine from the other party, the cheerful Kan, he was drinking half asleep beside him.

    Occasionally the ball is scored, and the living room shouts loudly and can be heard downstairs, Jiang Wang will sleepily sip his wine and watch the screen for a while, then lean on the sofa and fall asleep.

    The old man made up his mind to drive them away, but he did not expect the young people in the society to take out a stack of tickets.

    There are hundreds of them, I don't know how they broke into loose money.

    Jiang Wang counted one hundred and eight and handed it to him.

    "Poland vs Ecuador, buy zero to two."

    The old man gave him a suspicious look, swiped Zhang Zhang's fifty-twenty money with the money detector, and slowly opened a ticket.

    Besides a middle-aged man who was hiding from his wife to watch the football laughed.

    "You buy Ecuador?"

    "Last year's friendly match against Poland was three to zero. Young people, don't play like this if you want to bet on the upset."

    "Zuravsky's attacking thief is **** awesome," the person next to him smiled and brushed off his cigarette: "Listen to me, Poland is not a loss for a full warehouse."

    Peng Xingwang found a small bench and sat down, and fell asleep on the table after a while.

    Two hours later, the man put the brand new 500 yuan in his pocket, bent down and gave the child a brain break.

    "Ow!" Peng Xingwang stretched out his hand to protect his head: "It hurts!"

    "Drinking soda." Jiang Wang looked like he was asking a question, and his hand had already opened the freezer: "What does it taste like?"

    Peng Xingwang is very alert: "I don't drink."

    Jiang went his own way and took two bottles of Arctic Ocean.

    The boss opened the bottle caps for them, and had nothing to do to inquire about the news.

    "Is this child your son?"

    "How is it possible." Jiang Wang ticked the corner of his mouth: "I can't be so dumb."

    The two returned to school at noon and went to the Academic Affairs Office to buy a set of school uniforms, white shoes, red scarf, and little yellow hat.

    When paying, a classmate recognized Peng Xingwang and looked up at Jiang Wang curiously.

    "Wangzai, who is he?"

    Peng Xingwang shouted crisply and brightly.

    "My big brother!"

    Jiang Wang was inexplicably lower in air pressure.

    The teacher was troubled by the child's family not paying any money before, and he was relieved to see that someone was finally willing to take care of it, and took out the fitted clothes in two or three times.

    The child hugged the clothes with bright eyes, rushed to the bathroom to change, and rushed out, pulling Jiang Wangyi by the corner of his clothes and laughing stupidly.

    "Does it look good!"

    Jiang Wang thought to himself where he could see the color of this mud dog, squinted his eyes and nodded reluctantly.

    Peng Xingwang's smile became brighter, and he wanted to blend in with other muddled primary school students: "I'm going to class?!"

    As soon as Jiang Wang raised his head, his eyes suddenly stopped.

    There is a familiar figure at the other end of the corridor.

    The man was thin and thin, with a piece of white jade on his right wrist, and his eyebrows were as clear as the summer night moon.

    The flow of time seemed to slow down suddenly, Jiang Wang took a step forward, like a student who finally returned to school to visit his teacher after more than 20 years.

    The man saw that Peng Xingwang was wearing the new school uniform, smiled and touched the child's head and praised him for his good-looking, holding hands and taking him back to class.

    The man stood at the far end, watching his shadow fade down the steps like a tide, he was stunned for a long time, and after a while he looked at the old coat that he had been holding in his arms.

    He doesn't even know his name.